Mean Streets
by MsMorg
Summary: When Richard Castle attempts to save a damsel in distress, he winds up in the middle of a murder investigation, but that won't stop him from what he's set his mind to do. He has a particular set of skills, more than enough to pay the bills, and he wants to put them to good use - as long as he's home in time to watch Vampire Diaries with Alexis. Pre-season 1 AU.


**Alternate Story Summary: When Detective Kate Beckett witnesses a woman being attacked on the street below her apartment window, she can't just turn a blind eye. When she confronts one of the men involved, she comes face to face with one of her favorite authors, even if she doesn't recognize him at first. The ensuing investigation will bring them together to solve a string of what previously seemed to be random attacks, but turned out to be something much more heinous.  
Alternate Universe, Pre-Season 1. Characters may have slightly different backgrounds than in the show. Rated T for some mild language and violence.**

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 **Mean Streets Chapter 1 -**

The detective paced toward her window, sipping on a fresh cup of tea that had barely finished steeping. She took a deep breath as she gazed through the window, across toward the building opposite, and then down to the street below where something caught her eye.

Down at street level, she saw two men tussling and a woman slumped over against the brick wall of the apartment building across the way. She knew she couldn't make it down there in time to stop the fight, but felt obligated to go down there and try anyway. Despite the time of night, and the fact that she had to be up early in the morning, she made up her mind to do what she always did, serve and protect. Sighing, she placed her mug on the counter, and made her way back over to the wingback chair that she had slung her jacket over. Her leather jacket slipped over her shoulders easily before she re-holstered her department-issued Glock at her hip.

With one last woeful glance at the tea she knew she'd never get to enjoy, she headed back out the door she had entered not an hour before. Long nights and early mornings would be the death of her, she knew it. At least when she was a beat cop, she had a rotation and a somewhat strict schedule. This detective gig she'd had for the last two years now was starting to wear on her, despite her young age. Getting calls at all hours, and effectively burning the candle at both ends to solve cases as quickly as she could was definitely unhealthy, but she loved it, loved what felt like to bring someone deserving of it to justice.

The six flights of stairs passed quickly and quietly under her feet, and soon enough led her out onto the dark street below. The only light on the street shone from a solitary street lamp on the corner half a block away, and the ambient light from an apartment window or two did little to help brighten the dark night around her. As she had predicted, the brawl had ended by the time she got there. One of the men she had seen fighting was knelt over the woman who was now lying flat on her back on the cool cement of the sidewalk. From her vantage point the detective noted the man pressing his fingers to the woman's neck briefly before his head fell and his shoulders slumped. At this, she flicked on her flashlight and drew her gun, holding her left hand pressed back to back with her right in the Harries technique that long been second nature to her. The beam of her flashlight marked the path of her weapon as she searched either way down the now-empty street, but the other man was long gone. Seeing no other threats in the vicinity, she crossed.

"Police! What's going on here?" she called out to the remaining man when she was about twenty feet away.

A seemingly panic-stricken face whipped upwards and met hers abruptly, only to be blocked by hand that was raised to protect his eyes from the beam of her light. She aimed her light and weapon slightly downward, as to not be in his face, but still at the ready. In the remaining light, she could see blood smeared and running all across his face. "She's dead." He commented, his eyes wide with emotion as he raised his hands to be in full view.

The detective, already on high alert grew even more uneasy at hearing this, even as his peaceable action alleviated some of the tension she felt. From what she had seen, all she could assume was that one of the two men most-likely committed this act of violence. Her mind conjured up the only logical question it could, "Did you do it?" she asked.

"What? Me?" He jerked his head back up at her from where it had fallen again to look at the victim, even as his hands hung in the air between them. "No! I was trying to get that guy off of her, the guy who did this," he said motioning his torso with one of his raised hands. "I managed to get a few good hits in, but then he started running, and I couldn't just give chase and leave her laying here like this." He explained very matter-of-factly.

His words resonated in her ears clearly, and that itself made her believe him, even if she knew she shouldn't. One moment he had appeared overcome with emotion, and the next he seemed to have nerves of steel. Her cop instincts were being awfully silent right then, despite being in the middle of a crime scene, but her human instincts noted his abrupt change in demeanor.

In the few steps it took for her to reach the woman's body, she holstered her weapon against what might have been her better judgment, and shone the light more directly at the woman. At her approach, he fell back on his heels a bit, not wanting to be in the way. The press of her fingers against the woman's neck yielded nothing, he had been right, the woman was dead. Her words came on a sigh, "Alright, just- stay put, I have to call this in." He kept his hands raised, making sure they were visible, and slumped back against the wall, stretching his legs in front of him. She grabbed her phone from her back pocket, and keeping her eyes trained on him the entire time, called it in to dispatch.

Once the call had been made, and units were dispatched, she sighed again. This evening was supposed to have been a night to catch up on some much-needed sleep. When she had left work almost two hours ago, she had envisioned sipping on a warm cup of herbal tea before slipping into a hot shower and then directly into bed. Normally she would have preferred wine, a bath, and a chance to read, but today had been long enough to warrant her usual back-up plan. A yawn escaped her mouth at the thought of sleep, and she knew she'd need coffee soon, or she wouldn't be of much use to the investigation.

"You're lucky I saw that fight from upstairs, anyone else might not have believed your story, especially given you mentioned a man that seemingly evaporated into thin air." Came her soft voice, trying to break the tension that was building in the cool night air.

"I don't know, people believe a lot of things I say…" he began, seemingly lost in thought, his arms now resting limply over his raised knees.

This piqued her interest, as it almost sounded like he was implicating himself; either that or his mouth got way ahead of his brain. "I guess you're lucky I'm a homicide detective then." She remarked, peering at him to gauge his reaction. When his eyes snapped up to hers, they told her exactly what he was thinking in that moment - Am I really lucky, or is this the worst thing that could have happened?

Glimpsing the time on his watch upon his overturned wrist, he began "How long is this going to take? I was just on my way back home. I had promised my daughter I would be home half an hour ago. We were supposed to be sharing a carton of ice cream right now, camped out in front of the TV, watching the latest episode of Vampire Diaries, giving our personal commentary on Elena, Damon, Stefan and the whole crew of love-struck teens with a real aversion to Vervain. We agreed to watch it later On Demand, since I was at a signing." His words rambled out of his mouth ad surprising speed. She was surprised, having figured he would be silent in his shock. "Can I call her? Let her know I'll be late?"

"I'd prefer if you didn't touch anything to contaminate whatever evidence might be on your hands," she reasoned, "you said you got a couple of good hits in, so I'm hoping there is some evidence left behind. Do you know if the blood on your hands his or your own?" At the question, she shined her flashlight over his outstretched hands.

"It must be his," he breathed, inspecting first the backs of his hands, then his palms, "I don't have any cuts on my hands. I guess that's the benefit of knowing your way around a fight." He shrugged nonchalantly. Raising his eyes back up to hers, he requested, "Would you mind calling her then? I really hate to worry her, she's only fourteen." The sincerity in his eyes is what did her in.

"I guess that couldn't hurt," she sighed with a shrug and shaking her head. She quickly tapped in the number as he recited it to her dutifully from memory.

"Hello?" Came a worried, and slightly confused voice.

"Good evening," she peered down at him as he whispered 'Alexis' to her, "Alexis. This is Detective Kate Beckett, NYPD. I'm here with your father-" she greeted, and it occurred to her then that she hadn't even thought to ask this man's name, some detective she was, but her thought was cut off.

"Oh No!" The girl exclaimed, "Did something happen to him? Is he alright?!" She didn't wait for an answer, "I told him walking home at night was dangerous, especially from that neighborhood!" The girl rushed out, but not without placing ample accentuation on her particular thoughts of Detective Beckett's locality, whether the girl knew it was her home or not.

"No," She paused, her eyes glancing up and down his disheveled form. "He's fine. He just appears to have been a witness to a crime, and will be tied up here for a bit while we get things figured out," she attempted to ease the child's worry.

"Can I talk to him? Why didn't he just call me?" She questioned, evidently not appeased by the detective's efforts in the slightest.

"Here," the detective pulled the phone away from her ear and tapped the speaker icon,  
I'll put it on speakerphone for a moment."

At first, he didn't say anything, perhaps waiting for her go ahead, but with an encouraging wave of her hand, the man engaged his daughter at last.

"Hey Pumpkin, don't worry about me, just being a good Samaritan, you know me!" He joked with his daughter before suggesting, "Why don't you go ahead and fix yourself that bowl of ice cream and head to bed. We can watch that show tomorrow."

Detective Beckett could almost hear the young girl's eye roll through the phone, "Yeah right dad, I'm not eating ice cream at this time of night without you to force it on me." The joke rolled out automatically, as if it wasn't the first time it had been made. "I'll head to bed, see you in the morning?" The girl questioned hopefully. It seemed, to the detective, that hoping he was around also wasn't a first, which raised her suspicions slightly.

"Of course, Pumpkin, I'll make you your favorite pancakes to make it up to you," he promised. Beckett catalogued this exchange for later, she was too tired to dwell the relationship of this man and his daughter.

"Thanks dad, love you!" Alexis crowed. The sound of shuffling feet could be heard from the other end, as if a victory dance were happening on the teenager's end, but the detective couldn't be sure.

"Love you too, honey, sleep tight." He said softly before motioning to the detective to end the call. He sighed heavily, leaning his head back against the wall. Once the detective had pocketed her phone once again, he confided, "I hate lying to her."

Beckett was slightly surprised, since that entire exchange seemed like a well-practiced ballet. "Well, if you were indeed coming to this woman's aid, then technically you were being a good Samaritan, right?" Her eyebrows arched in challenge, and added, "Not so much of a lie."

"Yeah, I guess that's true." At the detective's words, a long exhale escaped his lips and he closed his eyes. His hands itched to run through his hair, but he didn't dare move them, both due to the drying blood on them, and fear that any movement from him might literally trigger a negative response from the detective before him.

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 **AN: More to come soon.**

 **Let me know what you think!**

 **\- Morgen**


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